


A labyrinth of mirrors

by summerof16



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Asgardians in love, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I do love these two, I want to say mild horror but I've been told it doesn't qualify as horror, Idiots in Love, If you're afraid of your reflection this is not for you, Labyrinth inspired, Mirrors, Mutual Pining, Sifki Month, Sifki Week, Stuck apart, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23752507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerof16/pseuds/summerof16
Summary: “A labyrinth of mirrors?” Sif asked with a frown, as Loki sat down beside her.“Indeed,” Loki nodded, “It is said to be both beautiful and disorienting. A place to get lost in, literally and metaphorically.” There was more than just mild interest in the way his face lit up, even if only briefly. There was a wonder and deep yearning in his face. It was the sort of emotion that Loki kept hidden under a dozen layers of thoughts.Unless of course, this was another one of his pranks.
Relationships: Loki/Sif, Loki/Sif (Marvel)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 45





	A labyrinth of mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome welcome, one and all to the labyrinth of mirrors. Do not get lost along the way or you might just never find the way out. 
> 
> Enjoy a little fluff, some angst and mutual pining. I hope you have a pleasant day/night and visit us again.

“A labyrinth of mirrors?” Sif asked with a frown, as Loki sat down beside where she lounged in the stalls of the training yard. Her latest battle had been victorious, but in the midst of the brawl, the trainee had reverted to the tactics of young children and tugged on her ponytail. She adjusted it carefully, carding her fingers through her hair, trying to stop that annoying tug of a few strands.

“Indeed,” Loki nodded, his added weight shifting the bench beneath her. He may not be as voluminous as Volstagg or even Thor, but the dip served as a reminder that he was not as light or airy as he liked to appear. Especially as he had the unnerving new habit of appearing out of thin air to spook them a little. It was a habit which had earned him several startled smacks.

She smirked at the thought.

“It is said to be both beautiful and disorienting. A place to get lost in, literally and metaphorically.” He spoke with such ardent wonder, that Sif drew away a little. There was more than just mild interest in the way his face lit up, even if only briefly. There was wonder and a deep yearning in his face. It was the sort of emotion that Loki kept hidden under a dozen layers of thoughts. Unless of course, this was another one of his pranks.

Sif narrowed her eyes.

“Why have I never heard of this before?”

His expression shuttered at her tone, an emotionless mask falling in place. Loki shrugged, and turned to the training yard, keeping his eyes glued on Thor as he beat a trio of new recruits. Thor had quite the gift at making the youngsters look like limp ragdolls even as he fought them without a weapon to keep things ‘fair’. Loki reached up nonchalantly and scratched his neck.

“It is a travelling labyrinth,” he stated haughtily as if it was the most self-explanatory thing in the universe.

She elbowed him in response.

“Explain.”

He shot her an indignant look, but the corners of his mouth curled up ever so slightly.

“You cannot possibly bring up such a thing and fail to elaborate,” she said pointedly, only causing his grin to widen.

“Is the Lady Sif curious after all?” he needled, earning him an eye-roll.

“You speak for hours on issues pertaining to the brewing of elixirs in excruciating detail, but here you show restraint?” She crossed her arms. “You’re keeping a secret. So, explain.”

He chuckled and turned to her, preening like a cat who had been fed well.

“Though the Alfar are known for their illustrious history and their luxurious lifestyle, they find amusement in travelling entertainers. And so, groups of Alfar minstrels, animal tamers, and other sorcerers, travel the realms with their assortment of tricks and skills, to bring wonder to the masses. One of these is a labyrinth of mirrors. Legend has it that those who cross the labyrinth before the sun rises, are destined for greatness…”

Sif raised an eyebrow.

“What… type of greatness?”

“The sort that people will sing ballads about for millennia,” Loki said wistfully, looking out upon the training yards again.

Sif’s eyes flashed to him. It was not a secret that Loki yearned to be seen the way that Thor is seen. To be adored, to shine, to embody greatness. Every time someone praised Thor, she had seen him shrink. Seen him recoil only so slightly like each was a light slap to his face. It stood to reason that he wished to traverse this labyrinth to test his mettle. But why invite her? It was not that she wouldn’t relish the opportunity to prove her worth again, but Loki was never one to propose a trip, and always the one to restrain the others. Mostly Fandral, when Fandral’s hips went wandering again… which was often.

“I see…” Sif hummed.

Cheers erupted around the training yard, and Sif’s gaze turned onto the match. Thor was laughing boisterously, having wrenched the sword from the third challenger, who was busy yielding. Sif chuckled and Loki’s expression soured in distaste. He cleared his throat.

“Tonight is the last night it will be in Asgard. It will move to Nidvallir as of tomorrow, and considering how well my last trip there went, I would much rather see it here,” Loki muttered rubbing a hand over his mouth. The scars left from the stitching of his mouth had long faded due to the exceptional work by Eir, but Sif did not need to be a sorceress to know the mental scars of one who is so dependent on their tongue would linger for millennia to come.

“Well, I suppose it is worth a look,” Sif replied, fighting back a smile as Loki sat up straighter, evidently not having expected her to acquiesce so quickly.

“It certainly will be,” he promised.

“Where are the others?” Loki asked, arriving at the gilded gates through which lay the labyrinth. The tents filled with various entertainers were bursting with people seeking the curiosities that came from foreign realms, and magic so wholly different from seidr. But the entry to the labyrinth appeared empty apart from a solitary figure. Sif stood by a sign written in Alfar, the night sky illuminating the clasps on her hooded cloak and glimmering off her glaive. Sure, the labyrinth was mere a place of fun, but a warrior never went anywhere unarmed. Particularly, not to a place filled with foreign magic.

Sif looked up to find Loki equally dressed in his travel gear, with a long black cloak hanging from his slim frame. She did not need to ask to know there were knives everywhere on his person. It was always a given.

“Who are you referring to?” She asked, a small smile spreading across her lips.

“My brother and the warriors three, of course,” Loki chuckled, though he need not have asked. He knew exactly how they were all occupied. It was, after all, why he had chosen this particular night to invite Sif. He looked around innocently, even squinting to look ahead into the Labyrinth, but saw nothing but their own reflections glancing back. Yes, the reflection looked just as innocent as he’d intended. “I assumed you would invite them, so I did not feel the need to ask them myself.”

“Well, that was presumptuous of you,” Sif huffed, crossing her arms. “This was your idea. You should have asked.”

His eyebrows shot up.

“Do you mean to tell me that you did not extend an invitation to them?”

She paused and uncrossed her arms.

“I will have you know they are all preoccupied tonight. Thor has been coerced into attending a meal with a diplomat’s son, Hogun’s family has decided to visit, Volstagg’s brood is putting on a play and Fandral… He’s found himself an Alfar dancer as a diversion tonight.”

Loki’s lips twitched. Exactly as expected.

“…so, it is only us,” he finished.

She nodded, turning to the labyrinth. She squared her shoulders, as if staring herself down, and glanced at Loki’s reflection.

“Do you think there are beasts inside?” She asked.

His cheek twitched.

“There might be, but I doubt there’s anything that would kill those who enter. Else this group would not be allowed to travel the realms so freely…”

She hummed.

“So, the challenge is simply to find our way out before sunrise?”

He nodded.

“Perhaps it’s harder than it sounds,” Loki mused, and with that, they set off, not noticing the malevolent smiles that grew on their reflections.

For all intents and purposes, the labyrinth was as ordinary as any maze through which they’d traversed as children. Like the mazes of wheat on the outskirts of Asgard proper, corridors were barely wide enough for two people, leaving Sif to lead as Loki followed her through the winding paths. All paths diverted at corners or gaps, never straying from a layout of straight lines, thereby making the trail an easy one to recall. Not that Loki needed to recall the path, having laid a trail of seidr behind them with every step. They could retrace their way if Sif were ever to allow it, but her obstinate brow suggested that this was not going to be the case.

He turned his head and tugged gently at the trail he’d left behind, and the strand of magic glowed imperceptibly in the moonlight that shone down through the glass ceiling. It would, of course, have been easy to cheat and make it disappear, but Loki had a strong suspicion that Sif would smack him if he tried. Like that time when he’d used a spell to incapacitate one of her enemies, and she’d pummelled him for it, insisting she can take care of herself.

A small smile stretched across his lips at the memory. Somehow, drawing her ire had become a source of joy over the years. Something that tugged at a small corner of his dusty heart, reminding him that, though nothing else, Sif would always see him.

He let the strands of seidr disappear and turned.

“How far do you thin-“

He froze.

She was gone.

Sif gritted her teeth. This was so completely Loki. One moment she was walking along, hands grazing the mirrors, and the next moment she turned around and he was nowhere to be found. She had called to him and even reversed course until she was certain she had nearly reached the entrance through which they’d come, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps he had found another path or a magical little trick, but he ought to have had the courtesy to tell her. They should have followed it together. It was the least he could do…. After all, going to the labyrinth together had been his idea in the first place.

She shook her head at herself.

No, this was simply the way with Loki. He was ephemeral at the best of times, sitting by her side and whispering secrets into her ears, and a moment later, running off into the library as a thought gripped him with an almost compulsive need to satisfy his curiosity immediately. A hint of a smile settled over her lips at the thought. He would certainly never admit to being a passionate creature, preferring to hide behind the deception of being emotionless and rational at the best of times, but he could not hide the truth from her. After all, it had been their passionate natures that drew them together in the first place. He loved his work as a sorcerer and scholar, and she loved serving Asgard on the battlefield. They were each odd in their chosen fields, each a flipped reflection of what they should have been, and yet it bonded them more than it drew them apart.

However, the thought of personally staying indoors all day and staring at tomes of magic made Sif’s stomach clench. It was the life her mother, an admired sorceress of her own right and a handmaiden to the Queen, had always wished for her. Unfortunately, for her mother, Sif had the magical capabilities of a pebble, and it would never have worked. Luckily for Sif, her constant closeness with Loki meant that there was always a lingering touch of seidr on her, and her mother ceased to question her efforts in sorcery.

Sif huffed at the latest dead-end and glared at her reflection, which rightly looked like she was going to grab the glaive off her back and ram it through the mirrors until they all shattered. She set her mouth in a thin line and exhaled sharply through her nose.

So be it. Next attempt.

She placed her left hand upon the mirror, not noticing the slight twitch of the reflection’s lips, and followed along the left-most mirrors again. It was a simple trick, and in fact, it was the trick that Loki had told her to follow. Yet _somehow_ they had managed to separate from each other. She refused to take the blame for this one (not that she took the blame for anything else, but that was just common sense). Everyone knew he made his own problems-

Someone screamed.

_Loki._

Sif spun on her heel, but there was nothing she could see or do as she came face to face with a reflection. A reflection which had distinctly not been there before. She turned to the side, but another reflection greeted her. Spinning in all directions there was only the path she was following and no way back.

The walls had shifted: The labyrinth was alive.

She banged her fist against the mirror that blocked her way back, but it merely deformed under her touch, and pushed back, like a giant elastic strip of leather. She stared at it, wide-eyed and burning with confusion.

_What was happening? Was this why she lost Loki-_

Her eyes flashed.

_Loki._

She sucked in a deep breath and shouted his name, but there was no response again. The labyrinth was eerily quiet. No screams, no footsteps, not even the sounds of woodland creatures which populated the area surrounding the labyrinth. All was still and motionless. She leant against the mirror and looked up. Up, far beyond the high walls of the mirrors was just the night sky. An inky vastness filled with glimmering stars. It was the only source of light in these dark halls, and yet it was enough for her to catch sight of her reflection staring at her with smug satisfaction.

A chill ran down her spine, as the reflection shifted, tilting her head slightly, wearing a smile more feral than friendly, and grasped her wrist through the metal. Silver hands formed into fetters and pulled her forward into its depths.

She screamed, but the sound was muffled by the liquid silver, covering every inch of her submerged form, coating her like she had been dunked in water. Air escaped into the liquid void, but she could not breathe, as she stared out into the crystalline void. She thrashed, as much as the liquid would allow, her hair floating about her, but she could not move. She could not pull back. She could not free herself.

She was trapped.

The no-longer-reflection stood in front of her, still restraining her wrists, and slowly dipped down to her knees, dragging Sif down until its mouth was only inches from her ear. She stared at it, wild-eyed, her heart beating furiously in her chest, and watched its sneer take over its entire face as it morphed into a faceless being with only two hollows for eyes and a mouth without lips.

“Did you really think you were worthy?” her Father’s voice came from the faceless thing, sending a trickle of cold sweat down her spine.

“To be a warrior of Asgard?” Odin’s voice asked, fetters appearing about her legs.

“To be a protector of the realms?” Thor’s voice scoffed, as metal clamped her feet to the ground.

With each word, a new metal ring wound about her core, so tight that any remaining air in her body was pressed out, forming translucent bubbles which dripped from her lips.

“To be respected as a friend?” Volstagg grumbled.

“A confidant?” Hogun snarled.

“To be equal?” Fandral tsked.

A muzzle grew around her mouth as a root might grow into the soil. The creature paused and leant closer, its icy breath tingling across her skin.

“To be our daughter?” Her mother and Frigga asked in unison, pity drenching their words.

“I am worthy,” she wanted to scream, but the muzzle ate into her skin, clamping her mouth shut. She had fought so hard, for so long. She was not deluding herself. No, she can’t be deluding herself. She earned her place. She earned their confidence. She earned a spot among the warriors of Asgard. No number of voices could take that away from her. No.

“Did you really think you were worthy?” They repeated, the voices swirling about her in a dizzying array which grew louder and louder until they morphed with peppered whispers of “Unworthy. Unworthy, Sif.”

She gritted her teeth.

The faceless creature’s lips pulled taut in amusement, and the sound stopped.

Her body went slack at the sudden release of pressure.

It tilted her chin up with a single finger, and the black void of its eyes bored into her, growing deeper as it nodded at her in appreciation.

“Sif,” it whispered in a chorus of voices, and like a marionette whose strings got pulled, her entire body snapped up, her hands clamped to the edge of the mirror on either side of her head, and each fetter held her rigidly in place. The faceless one stepped back and melted into the silver world of the mirror.

“Sif!” Loki’s voice asked from within the void, cutting through the haze of her mind.

 _Loki._ Her heart juddered in her chest. _Was he stuck inside the mirrors as well?_

She struggled against the fetters, but each movement sliced into her sending slashes of pain through her limbs.

“Sif,” the voice repeated, much closer than before. “Did you really think you were worthy?” Loki’s voice asked from within the void, caressing her face with his words alone. Her eyes grew wide and her stomach clenched as a fresh wave of nausea washed over her. 

This wasn’t Loki. It was still the Labyrinth. And it _knew._ It _knew_ her best-kept secret. It _knew_ the pain. It knew the humiliation.

It did not care.

“Did you really think,” his voice whispered, in a low purr so soft that it could have been mistaken for a lover’s benediction, “You were worthy to be loved by me?”

The air was knocked out of her as she was catapulted back into the labyrinth, back slamming into another wall of mirrors. She gasped, clutching her neck, as the place where her glaive pushed into her back pulsed with pain. At least the pain cut into the echo of rejection.

“Foolish, headstrong, boorish Sif,” his voice whispered through the mirror at her back. “You are not a woman to be loved. Only a companion in battle. None could look at you as more than a fighter.” He laughed, that derisive little laugh he used to puncture and wound his enemies. She felt a cold touch glide along the column of her neck. Soft, ghostly lips. “I could never love the likes of you.”

She shifted forward and spun on her heel, pressing a dagger against the mirror. But she did not find Loki. No, a low voice giggled as she stared into the glassy eyes of her own reflection. It smiled back at her innocently, like a child who had just played an innocent prank and was very satisfied with the results. Sif growled, and held the dagger firmly against the unbending mirror while reaching back for her glaive.

“Whatever you are, you will pay for your games,” Sif growled.

The reflection smirked and giggled once more, causing Sif to press the dagger harder into the surface, cracking it slightly, just before the mirrored wall swung aside.

She fell forward, but rolled to her feet, ready to continue fighting. She turned to face the offending mirror once more, but the reflection was gone. All reflections had disappeared.

All the mirrors were gone, and everything lay bared by walls of glass. A glass which did not reflect the moonlight. Enchanted glass, Sif thought, recalling one of Loki's lengthier monologues regarding magical barriers and wards. She looked around and inspected the space she was in. There were no paths. No exits. Only a large, bare courtyard boxed in by thick glass. Through the walls she could see past all the winding paths, out beyond the labyrinth itself, where a gaggle of children ran after a dog in a hat, trying to capture it with their affection, while nearby revellers laughed and chatted animatedly.

Consulting the stars she hummed. Yes, that was the opening of the labyrinth lying westward.

Turning east, she saw a dazzling fountain far beyond the exit. The water glittered even from afar, as colourful lanterns hung above it illuminating couples imbibing Alfar wines and sharing moments of tenderness which brought colour to her cheeks. She should not be watching others have gentle moments, even though it was difficult to look away from something she longed for.

She swallowed and looked down. Her grip on her glaive had tightened, and her knuckles were white under the strain of it all. It was silly how such small displays could elicit such strong reactions, and yet being bound and facing an enemy had felt quite natural.

Perhaps the mirror Loki had been right. Perhaps she was not a woman to be loved, and only to be feared. Perhaps it was simply her fate and she should resign herself to it. Perhaps her path did not allow for anything else.

She fought back a lump in her throat, willing it to not rise as tears pricked at her eyes. Her mouth pinched together, as she blinked back the tears.

No, the labyrinth would not win. It could play with her remorselessly, tossing her around like a ragdoll and playing with her mind and heart as much as it pleased, but she refused to break. She refused to let it win. If there was one thing her friends and enemies alike could agree on, it was her obstinacy, and tonight it would bring her victory.

She squared her back, and stood tall, jutting her chin out. She would find a way out, and she would show the Alfar, and all the realms, that she was made of sterner stuff.

She closed her eyes and listened, furrowing her brows with concentration. The sounds from outside the labyrinth were sealed off, but the sounds from within still reverberated slowly through the ground itself. The walls moved within the labyrinth, but they moved rhythmically. It was not a random mechanism, no matter how much the unsettling reflections might have suggested it. She memorised the pattern and held her breath. One of the walls to the courtyard opened and shut two seconds apart. It took another two minutes before another opened to the courtyard. The pattern repeated.

There were many paths out after all.

But where was Loki? Had he come out already? She opened her eyes and looked out towards the far-off exit with the fountain, but there was no trace of him. Damn his black travel attire and fleet-footed gait. It was going to get him stuck inside the labyrinth, or worse, killed. And how was she supposed to tell the Queen that she’d eternally lost her son in a place of Alfar amusement? There would be a war just because they’d been fooli-

A light flashed in the periphery of her vision. It was a short burst, a glimmer on her right as a piece of metal caught the moonlight. She squinted wishing for the first time in aeons that she had a shred of magic to call an orb of light into being and waited. A few seconds later there was another flash, a couple of metres away from the first one. It had to be Loki. It had to be his metal chest plate.

Praise the Norns for his vanity!

She was everywhere. Every surface was covered in her face, smiling and mocking him, with hard eyes and twisted lips. He had tried to run away from the apparitions, but they followed him through the labyrinth. Her mouth parted into a snarl on one apparition, and yet another wore a coy little smile. The type of smile that promised secrets upon secrets beneath each bared tooth. A smile that whispered his undoing.

The reflections laughed soundlessly at first, but slowly, a quiet murmur awakened around him, and the sounds of scattered, mirthless laughter bubbled up, and grew. They grew until the sound shook every facet of his body, seizing his heart and squeezing until every breath hurt. He gripped his ears, trying to soften the impact, but there was nothing he could do. Not even his seidr could mute the laughter, for the sound was no longer coming from the mirrors of the labyrinth, but from a seed within him.

A seed of truth.

He knew, of course, that Sif could not truly care for the likes of him. He was merely an amusing little pest. Just someone who helped kill time until Thor opened his arms to her.

“Oh Loki,” the reflections echoed the reflections within reflections, sending the words bouncing back and forth between infinite worlds. “You should know better by now…”

Her glassy gaze slipped into the one thing less bearable than scornful mocking: Pity.

“You’re not real,” he muttered over and over, squeezing his eyes shut as he reached another dead-end. “You’re just the labyrinth. You’re not her. You’re not her.”

With the barest flick of his wrist, he pulled mist into being, filling long stretches of the labyrinth with a fog that would cause the most skilled animals extreme disorientation.

“Oh, Loki. You’re such a smart boy,” the fake Sifs whispered. He changed direction, but the voices persisted, following him with exactitude. “I might not be her, but you know that I speak the truth… You’re amusing, Loki. So very amusing. But how could anyone take you seriously if all you do is hide behind your little tricks?”

He broke into a run and sent out a shock of seidr in all directions, hunting for the corners lest he should run into a mirror in his frenzy.

“Don’t run away,” she laughed, gliding alongside him. “You can’t keep running from all your problems. They will always catch up with you.”

“Leave me be,” he hissed. “You are nothing. Nothing at all but a cruel little hex trapped inside a labyrinth.”

“Oh, how you wound me with your petty barbs,” she chuckled. “But between the two of us, you are the one who is trapped. Always searching, always running, always yearning for all the shiny toys that cannot ever be yours.”

“You know nothing,” he growled, and the fog disappeared as he stood face to face with her glassy-eyed apparition. He panted, his hands trembling with anger and exhaustion. If she were corporeal, he would gladly have plunged a dagger into her jugular. “You know nothing about what I want or need, or what I yearn for.”

She tilted her head, and hummed speculatively, looking him once over slowly, a new glint in her eyes. He could practically see the cogs in her mind turning. She pressed her hands against the mirror, her palms facing him like a strange peace offering, and inched closer until her breath coloured the mirror from within. She wore the smile of a predator who had found raw meat on a silver platter. His eyes grew wide, and instinctively, he took a step back.

“Why don’t you show me what you want?” She exhaled so softly that he wasn’t sure whether he had heard correctly.

He squinted.

“What?”

Her smile broadened until she wore Sif’s tell-tale wolfish grin. Even her glassy eyes seemed alight the way Sif’s did. An uncanny trick.

“Loki,” she purred, stroking the surface of the mirror in a hypnotic circle. “Come to me. The woman out there will never want you back. She has never seen you for what you are. Never understood what you have to offer,” she reminded him, softly biting her lip. It was a cheap ploy, but he could not help staring at the figure beckoning him on, a soft haze settling on his mind. “But you can have everything you desire with me...”

He forgot to breathe as her words sunk in slowly, hypnotising him with each deliberate motion of her hand.

“You would have everything you want,” she whispered, drawing him closer. She stretched lazily to reveal the pale column of her neck. “Everything you need,” she leant in, “and everything you yearn for.” She looked up at him through lidded eyes. A thrill shot down his spine, and she smirked, reading his nervous and fearful expression with ease. She glanced at the hands she had pressed against the mirror, and down at his curled hands. “Just come a little closer,” she murmured.

His hand slowly rose of its own volition, and though the back of his mind yelled that this was a trap, the haze that had descended over him prevented him from fighting.

The woman wearing Sif’s shell hummed.

“Just a little closer…”

He leant forward and-

“Loki, no!” Sif screamed as a mirror opened beside him. She ran forth and knocked into him, pushing him onto the floor, with her arms wrapped around him. The impact of her falling on top of him knocked the air out of her. His head snapped back and hit the tiles with a hard thump.

“S-Sif?” He blinked, a hand instinctively flying to the back of his head, the haze had gone as quickly as it had come. He groaned as the pain radiated out of the back of his skull. “What just happened..?”

“I saved your life,” Sif growled, before jumping to her feet again, and dragged him up. She grimaced at the mirrors and narrowed her eyes as they repeated after her exactly. “Don’t try anything funny,” she snarled at them, before turning back to Loki. “Come, we need to move quickly, or we’ll miss the next door.” She grabbed his hand and ran, keeping her eyes on the stars as she dragged a still-disoriented Loki around the corner. They slipped through one opening, then another, and another, winding through the labyrinth’s many hidden doors. Their clasped hands never left each other, both afraid that if they lost contact for even a moment, the walls would spring up again and separated them for good.

“Are you sure this is the right path?” Loki panted, as they reached a wall, and she stared down at the solid reflection.

“This is the exit. Trust me,” she growled, willing it open, fire burning her parched throat. This had to be the final one. The eastern corner wall on the 15th layer of the labyrinth. It had to be it. _Please, it had to be_. They were so close.

Loki swallowed. She had saved him from what in no uncertain terms would have been a silvery prison and led them this far. And while his seidr couldn’t find any crevices in the mirror before them, his seidr had not been very reliable in the labyrinth. He nodded slowly, looking down at their still intertwined hands. No, the only thing he could rely on was Sif.

Strong, brilliant, resourceful, Sif.

“I always trust you,” he whispered, instantly regretting how ardent and bare the words came across. Perhaps he should have couched them within a sarcastic retort, but if the wall did not move and they did not find a way out… At least he would not regret lacking candour as they continued to face the monstrous labyrinth.

Startled, Sif’s head snapped to face him. He did not meet her eyes, eyes firmly glued to their hands as if they were a puzzle that he could not decipher despite his best efforts. His jaw strained as she looked upon him, the corners of his mouth tugged down into a grim expression she could only describe as longing. But longing for what? For freedom? Or…

“Loki…“ she began, afraid of the new sensation that sprung up in her stomach. Was that hope? “I…”

The wall swung open.

Like the flick of a switch, he returned to the present with unwavering focus.

“Go!” He pushed her through the door.

“Wha-“

She fell through the door, losing her footing as her hand, still entwined with Loki’s wrecked her balance. Falling backwards, she dragged him down with her, as she grasped for his collar with her free hand. Time seemed to slow, as his expression went from, focused, to demanding to shocked at his sudden descent into the grass. He released her hand just fast enough, that instead of falling on top of her and squashing her, his hands and knees braced his fall on either side of the shieldmaiden. A sting of pain shot through his wrists, and he bit back a howl. Instead, he whimpered, as his dishevelled hair fell around his face. He ground his teeth together, trying to breathe through the pain. He’d certainly sprained something.

“Eurgh,” Sif groaned in turn, her eyes squeezed shut. The glaive was biting into her back again, and she was certain her back would be covered in a gruesome pattern of bruises before the sun appeared above Asgard. She shifted, trying to stretch a little when she saw him. His face just inches above hers, breathing deeply. “What do you think you are doing?” She exclaimed, punching him in the stomach, and pushing him off. She rolled on top, reaching for one of her daggers as he started to groan and writhe in pain.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“I did not hit you _that_ hard…”

He groaned as he involuntarily huffed a laugh.

“You give yourself too much credit, my Lady. This pain is wholly my own doing,” he wheezed, giving her a self-deprecating smile. He raised his wrists for her to see for herself that they were swelling rapidly, as they turned purple. They were not bent at natural angles.

“By Odin’s beard,” Sif gasped, scrambling down towards his legs, and rummaging through his various pockets. “What were you thinking? You know as well as me that you should never land like that.”

“Wasn’t. Thinking,” he groaned.

She found an assortment of knives and tools, and tinctures in the outer three pockets, before daring to open up his coat, and rummage for his inner pocket. Her hand grazed across the metal breast-plate, before finding the bag she’d sought.

She might not be a sorceress like her mother, but even she knew the basics of healing stones.

“Hold still,” she instructed, before crushing the healing stones against the insides of his wrists. The effect was immediate. The colour seeped from the damaged areas, and the swelling went down as Loki exhaled with sheer bliss. The pain ebbed away, and she tentatively bent his wrists, checking they were healing properly.

Loki melted appreciatively into the grass, shutting his eyes. The oppressive silence of the labyrinth had disappeared, and the lively hum of the woodland creatures finally filtered through. Birds of the night and crickets chirped cheerfully. The wind strummed the branch of the wide, old trees, and bushes rustled joyfully.

Sif watched him carefully for a little while. It was rare to find Loki unguarded and simply at ease. She certainly would not have guessed that this was the state in which their little quest would end. She turned her head, slowly looking back towards the exit they had fallen through. Within the labyrinth stood their glassy-eyed reflections, looking down on them, side-by-side with their hands intertwined. They looked down on them with a strange twinkle in their eyes before they disappeared back into their darkness.

Glancing down at Loki, she saw that he too had seen them fade. He propped himself up on his elbows and furrowed his brows. The exit shut slowly, and a ghostly hand wrote onto the wall in Alfar. He blanched, and feeling a fresh dizzy spell, lay his head back down.

“Loki!” Sif grasped his shoulders as the colour drained out of his face. “What’s wrong? What does it say?”

He blinked slowly, his throat bone dry all of the sudden. _She must not find out…_

“Nothing important,” he said with nonchalance, but his pallor gave him away. He tried to wave it off, but Sif squeezed his shoulders in a vice-like grip.

“Loki,” she warned, a courtesy that Sif did not give often. “I just saved you multiple times, and by the Norns, I have every right to feed you to a Bilgesnipe if you keep this a secret.”

“It’s nothing,” he insisted, but she dug her nails into his shoulder. “Fine! Fine…”

She huffed and let go, crossing her arms across her chest. He whined internally at the loss of touch but didn’t make a sound.

He cleared his throat, and composed himself, propping himself up on his elbows again.

“It was a warning,” he started slowly, not quite meeting her eyes.

“Telling us not to come back? That’s a given. I don’t plan to ever step foot into anything Alfar ever again-“

He shook his head.

“No, not like that. It said ‘Waste your lives, not with lies. Love, not trust, did save your lives.’”

Sif blinked.

_Oh no… He knew about her-_

“Sif-“

“Loki-”

They spoke simultaneously but stopped. They stared at each other, holding their breaths, neither daring to continue. Loki swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You go first,” he said slowly. “The prerogative of a Lady.”

“No,” she insisted. “You start.”

She hoped to Hel that he didn’t guess the truth. She may have just survived a murderous labyrinth which tried to asphyxiate her and trap Loki in its icy folds, but she was not in any state to additionally face the mockery, let alone pity, of Loki.

He pulled a face and looked up at the night sky. The moons shone bright and beautiful above her in their twin orbits. Always pushing and pulling each other in an eternal interplay that their forefathers had witnessed, they were witnessing, and future generations would witness too.

He took a deep breath and looked back at her.

“I suppose my secret is out,” he whispered. “I never meant for you to find out like this… I don’t suppose I ever meant for you to find out at all. After all, it’s not like you could ever reciprocate such feelings. I ask you to please forget you ever knew anything. I prize your friendship dearly and don’t want a malicious labyrinth to come between us.”

She blinked.

“Your secret is out?” she repeated slowly, her mind racing.

_Surely it couldn’t be that he- No, they must have been speaking of her, but if he thought his secret was out then that had to mean-_

Her eyes popped wide, and he looked away, discomfort etched into his features.

“Your secret… love for me?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, but did not refute it, instead nodding infinitesimally. He seemed to somehow grow smaller, shrinking into himself, unfamiliar with such deep vulnerability.

“You… love me?” she asked in wonder. “Me? Are you certain?” she gaped. Surely this had to still be a dream. She was probably still trapped inside the damned labyrinth with the faceless one tearing into her mind. _There was no chance in Hel he’d love me._

But no. Here they were, outside the labyrinth with the sweet smell of grass wafting through the air. She could feel the heat radiating off her cheeks and see the soft blush that tainted Loki’s usually porcelain skin.

A soft laugh escaped her, and he couldn’t help but pry his eyes open just a fraction.

“There is no need to laugh at me,” he scowled.

She just shook her head and kept laughing.

“We are such fools. To have known each other for centuries and to not truly know each other at all.”

She leant down over him, suddenly much more aware of the scandalous position that they were in. She slowed her movements as he flinched ever so slightly, and instead reached down to cup his face in a grasp that was uncharacteristically tender for her. None of her lovers had ever required gentleness. Never seen her as more than sport. But this was Loki. Cold and full of edges at the best of times, but vulnerable and careful at others. Hel, he even broke his wrists to protect her from pain as they fell. A sweet action, though foolish and unnecessary.

“What are you doing…?” he whispered, working his jaw. He couldn’t possibly be reading the signs correctly. _Could she be-?_

“What does it look like I’m doing?” she murmured, gently caressing his cheek with her thumb. She tilted her head, looking down at his lips briefly.

He gulped.

“Is this a bit of mischief to get back at me for the labyrinth?” his voice barely above a whisper.

She chuckled.

“Allow me to make an argument…”

Her lips found his in a tender caress, lingering gently as she hummed in contentment. The corners of his lips curled up in surprise.

“You make a very eloquent point,” Loki remarked, blinking slowly, afraid he would wake from this strange reverie. She rested her forehead against his, and he looked up in wonder. Was this real? Could it possibly be true that she loved him too?

“Yes,” she murmured. He reached up tentatively and pushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear and watched with bemusement as it came loose again.

“How long?” he asked, with the ghost of a whisper tickling her lips.

“You first,” she hummed, her eyes glittering in the moonlight.

“Far too long,” he admitted, daring to hope. “As long as we’ve known each other.”

Her face split into a wolfish grin, beaming like the mirrors never could. Sif was no reflection of light. She was light itself, shining and bathing him in warmth.

“What?” he asked. “What does that expression mean?”

She beamed like the sun herself, and slowly climbed off him, lying down beside him on the cool grass. She wrapped her arm around him in an embrace and pressed her head against the crook of his neck, snuggling against him.

“It means it’s time to make up for centuries of wasted opportunities.”

**Author's Note:**

> I realise this is probably not the story you expected, and it isn't the story I expected either for Sifki month. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless, and please drop a comment or two! I love hearing from you! (Also, don't be afraid to comment if you've never commented before! All are welcome in this comment section)


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